We Met On Thornwood Lane


We met on Thornwood Lane.

You were skating,
music blaring through your headphones.
I was on a run,
escaping the noises in my head,
when our worlds crashed into each other.

The fall to the gravel hurt.

Blood washed over your scraped knees,
old scars and new.
My hip burned with agony,
my head ringing,
our apologies tangling
into incoherent messes.

You recovered before I could
and stretched out your hand to me.

I took it—
hesitant to let such chaos
into my carefully organized world.

The ink from your fingers
leaving their marks
on my manicured nails.

I told you to watch where you were going.

You smirked.

Joked about “falling” for me,
pointing to your bleeding knee,
then asked for my number.

I gave you the finger.

You shrugged,
got back on your board.

I continued running into Briar Lane.
You rode toward Middlefork Road.

Our backs to each other,
our hearts still waiting
beneath the sign;

Thornwood Lane.



P.S: contest pic prompt.



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